Kiss My Eyes and Lay Me to Sleep
by MermaidMidna
Summary: Did she trip? Did she fall? Did she jump on purpose? Did you ever think, that when it all falls apart, you'll be the glue to the foundation? That you'll be the one left to pick up the pieces? DARK Dasey/ LWD oneshot.


**Rated M for some mild language and heavy themes. Issues of suicide, depression, or just angst in general will be addressed. Please do not read if you have a problem with any of these things.**

**AN: I never, **_**ever**_** thought I would write an M rated fic, but here it is… I have to dedicate this fic to WhenLighteningStrikes because you totally inspired me to write this and gave me the nicest reviews. (And I'm very sorry it had to be such a depressing sorry to dedicate!!) But I feel just by reading your stories it has made me want to become a better author and challenge myself to write about topics that I wouldn't normally even want to **_**read **_**about. But everyone has to step out of their comfort zone at some point, and I feel this will help me grow as a writer. So thank you WhenLighteningStrikes!!!**

**I was also inspired to write for other characters in LWD because of a recent Nally drabble I did for a contest. So thanks somerdaye for helping me explore my horizons! Now onto the story…**

**

* * *

**

_**Kiss My Eyes and Lay Me to Sleep**_

When did the world go wrong? Was it before or after I had Morgan? Because I can't seem to remember anything that happened. All I know now is hospitals and nurses and doctors, and all I want to do is see my baby. When will I be able to hold her? I keep asking them. But they never reply with a straight answer. Soon, some of them say. Some of them don't say anything. I had a strange dream. In my dream Morgan died. She was being carried by the doctors and they were taking her away from me. So then in my dream I threw myself off the stairs. I knew that if I was dead, I would soon meet with Morgan in heaven, and we would be happy together. It was a sad dream. I think I cried. But I can't really remember anything. There's a nice nurse who brings me my food and smiles at me. Sometimes George and the rest of the family visit me here, but never Marti. I don't know why. I miss her. One time I asked George when I would get to hold Morgan.

He ran out of the room crying. I think I'll be holding Morgan soon.

* * *

_Damn the doctors. _Damn them! What the hell did they think they were doing, letting her out of the hospital in her condition? They _told me, _to my face, that she would okay. They said that the antidepressants would help, but they didn't do a damn. I think they made it worse, I really do. They sure made her bleed more when she… jumped. It wasn't just jumping either. She hit her head on the banister and… Oh God. I don't even want to _think_ about it. I don't know how she could do that to herself. I loved her. I love Nora with all my heart, but that was _not_ Nora. When she found out about Morgan, she just went berserk. Our baby girl, the one the doctors said would be alright, was born dead. How's that for an oxymoron? The doctors handed me her lifeless body, and I didn't know what to do with it. What do you do with a dead child, _your_ dead child? I had it arranged for her to be buried, but I was the only one who went to the funeral. Nobody else could handle it, especially Marti. I mean,_ I_ could barely handle it myself. God, it's all their faults. If they hadn't given us some sort of hope… If they hadn't let Nora out of the hospital… Maybe it would be okay. Maybe we'd be able to pick up the pieces. But it was already too late for that.

It's not natural for a man in his 40s to cry himself to sleep every night.

* * *

I have to be strong, because who else is going to be? _I _have to make the lunches. _I _have to get Marti ready for school. _I _have to do the chores that no one else feels like doing. All soccer games and tae kwon do lessons are "temporarily" postponed, so I have nothing to take my anger out on anymore. There are one or two holes in my wall that nobody knows about. Nobody bothers to come in my room anyway. And I don't know _who_ to be angry with. I'm mad at Casey because she doesn't help with anything anymore. She mopes around and acts like the freaking world has come to an end. Well guess what? Crap happens, and sometimes you just have to suck it up and move on with life. That's what I'm doing. Derek's no help either, not that he helped before, but his only concern now is poor, pitiful Casey. I don't understand them. Never have, never will, no matter how hard I try. My best friend, the kid who has been there for me since the beginning of my life in this house, the one who at least _tries_ to help me figure out Casey and Derek, is confined to his room. I'm mad at him because there are no more crazy schemes or plots of revenge against older siblings. I don't even understand _him _anymore. I'm mad at George because he always yells now. Well, he never yells at me. I do everything _right._ I still get the grades. I still do my chores. Heck, I do everyone else's chores. Maybe I should be mad at mom. She's the one who caused this whole stupid mess in the first place. If it weren't for her there would be no lazy Casey, pansy Derek, isolated Edwin, angry George, or confused Marti. Poor Marti, now that's who everyone should be feeling sorry for, not themselves. She has no clue what's going on. I try to be strong for her, only her. Nobody else deserves my brave face except her. But as much as I can put on that tough look at school and at home, in front of family and friends, I have to let go sometime. I can be everyone else's rock, but who will be mine? Because right now, my house is built on sand.

But don't feel sorry for me. I'm strong. I can handle this.

* * *

I was the one who found her. Derek and Casey were still in college, blissfully unaware of what was _really_ going on. The only news they had heard was that Morgan was stillborn, and then they went on living their normal lives. Until I found her, that is. Dad was still at work. Marti was still at school. Lizzie was at some sort of practice for something or other. They all had no idea._ I_ had no idea until I saw her lying there at the bottom of the stairs covered in blood. I didn't know what she did- if she did it to herself or if it was an accident. Did she trip? Did she fall? Did she do it on purpose? Several thoughts rushed to my head that I never knew could even exist in a preteen boy's mind. And then I panicked. I tried to pick her up. I tried to wake her up but she didn't open her eyes. It never crossed my mind that she might be dead. Thank God she wasn't. Finally I realized that I should call someone. _Anyone. _She needed help and I wasn't doing a single thing right. I ran to the phone and dialed 911. They answered and I couldn't speak. _How did this talking thing work again?_ They asked me my name, my address, my emergency. If they had asked me anything else, I think I might have jumped off the stairs as well. They didn't come right away, despite the fact that they always say they will, but when they did come, it was chaos. They lifted her onto a stretcher and told me to jump in the back of the ambulance. They started connecting all these weird wires to her, making her look like a foreign creature, some weird alien of some sort. I didn't know it had begun until it was over. But I was covered in sticky red fluid and it was seeping into me._ Into_ me_._ All over my hands, my face, inside of me.

It's still there. I still feel it.

* * *

People don't think I'm smart. People don't bother to tell me anything because I'm eight. Even Daphne stopped telling me things. Well I know. I know better than all of them. Nora is in the hospital. Baby Morgan hasn't come home. Daddy is always mad. Casey locks herself in her room and I can hear her crying at night. Sometimes I just wanna give her a big hug and squeeze all of the sadness out of her but I don't think my hug would be big enough. Maybe if Smerek hugged her it would work. Smerek and Casey spend a lot of time with each other now. I don't know what they do together, but they don't fight anymore. But they also don't talk to me anymore. They just make sad faces at me or pat me on the head. When are they going to realize that I'm not a dog!? Edwin doesn't talk or give me sad faces. He's like a statue. He only gets up to go to the bathroom and eat some food. But he doesn't even eat that much. Daddy keeps yelling at him to get better grades and do something with his life. My big sister Lizzie acts normal during the day but sometimes at night she comes into my room lays on my bed hugs me and cries. I just let her hold me because I think she needs that. I don't mind, because she's the only one that talks to me. I wish Nora would come home. I think that maybe if she came home, everything would get better. It might take some time, but it would be okay. Because right now it is very, very bad.

See, I know. I'm a very smart girl. But I miss Nora a whole lot. I miss them all.

* * *

She broke up with me. What the _hell_? I mean, I knew it was coming eventually, but it came really quickly and unexpectedly. She didn't even give me a real reason. And she called me on the _phone_. Sure, we live in different provinces now. Sure, I don't go to college. But you would think she would have the decency to wait a while and tell me to my face. She calls me up and says, "Truman, I don't really think this is going to work out right now." And, what exactly does _right now_ specify? And who exactly does that deep voice in the background yelling "Casey" belong too? Okay, I'll give you three frigging guesses. One- Derek Venturi. Two- Derek Venturi. Three- The effing pizza guy. See, I saw this coming a long time ago. How long, you ask? Well, basically since the first day I saw them _gazing _into each other's eyes. I knew I was taking a risk by going after Casey McDonald. But _damn,_ she was the hottest girl in the school. Every guy saw it, from Sam stupidMason to Max whateverthehellhislastnamewas to Noel prisspantsCovington. I guess I was lucky to get her for the time I did have her, huh? And it's not like I didn't have a backup girl or anything. But still the least she could have done was break up with me to my face.

What. The. Hell.

* * *

He broke up with me. I really was dumb to ever think that a long distance relationship would work. I mean, not that I didn't trust him or anything, but he was the "ladies' man," and he was in college now. And right now there are other… more pressing issues in his life. I heard all about the McDonald-Venturi conflict, the whole family falling apart. I mean, I am their neighbor. I watched out my window as the ambulance pulled up to their house and Edwin ran out, covered in blood. I was almost feeling sorry for Derek, almost more concerned for his well-being than our break up. Almost. That is, until he showed up with my best friend on their old doorstep. She was crying hysterically. He was holding her in his arms. And then I felt that pang of jealousy and that anger coursing through my veins as I watched them try to rebuild their sweet little family. Family. Would he rather make out with his sister than me? But now I realize I never had a chance. I was stupid to think he would ever look at me the way he looks at her, touch me the way he touches her, talk about me the way he talks about her. But they were step siblings.

They were practically related._ Practically._

* * *

Best friends. They're supposed to stay best friends. I mean, I know he had a lot to deal with. There was a lot on his mind. But I was willing to be there for him. I wanted to help. And he didn't exactly receive me with open arms. He told me everything that had happened- all the crap he had to put up with. And he automatically thought I wouldn't understand. He shut me off because he thought I would turn away and think him a freak- think his family psychotic. He should have known that I'm not like that. I mean, all families have problems. He knew very well all the crap I had to put up with at home. So why didn't he trust me? Why didn't he think I would help? Yes, there was the issue of distance. I didn't exactly live close by anymore. But if he would have asked, I would have dropped everything and ran to his side to support him. That's what best friends do.

He never asked.

* * *

I don't know how that girl found (or knew) my address, but it was a good thing she did. My wife was the one that answered the door (bless her dear soul), to find a girl in hysterics crying outside. She was one of my former students, the valedictorian, the composed one. I don't know what happened to her. She ran through the doorway, nearly knocking Tish aside and showing me her arms. Angry red slashes could be seen, some of them old, others fresh. I normally don't have a weak stomach (I watch ER occasionally), but the sight of _that_ on _Casey?_ It made me want to throw up. I had never handled something so intense as a _school_ guidance councilor. I didn't really know what to do. The only thing I could do was hold her in my arms and stop her from hurting herself. (Even though she was hurting me.) She was screaming like a banshee, going on about how her mother was in the hospital, her depression had gotten the better of her, that she was a horrible person and she deserved to die, how she made love to her stepbrother, how she dropped out of college… Woah, hold up- wait just a minute now! Could we like rewind to that part about her and Derek? Cuz dang… I've been wanting them to get together since the minute she stepped into my office, muttering her first complaint of the boy. But I kept my mouth shut about that, and let her continue on until she got to the part where she found her own solution just by listening to herself blabber on.

But this time, the solution didn't come.

* * *

First I had to make sure I had enough long sleeve shirts. I didn't want anyone else to know. This was my problem, and my problem alone. And then I had to find out what to use. A razor was probably my best bet. It wouldn't be as dangerous as anything else. I didn't aim to kill. That wasn't the point. There was something about the feeling of sharp pain on my arms and the moan that escaped from my lips every time I sliced through skin. Something about the way it felt to have control, something about the blood that was shed for people who had much greater pain than me. Like Mom, who was delusional, lying on a hospital bed with tubes in her arms. Like Morgan, her life taken before she even had the chance to breathe earth's air. And, haha, get this. I was happy, _happy _that she had died. What sort of sick, sadistic person did that make me? I deserved the scratches and cuts on my arms. I deserved to go to hell, I'll even admit that. I knew that if that baby was alive, she would cause me even more pain than the wounds on my arms. She would be the barrier, the one thing that would keep me away from love. True, _freaking_ love. Wasn't that what I always wanted? If she still existed, Derek and I would never _be_. Simple as that. _Derek_. He took away my razors and wrapped my arms in a desperate attempt to help. I tried to stop for him, but then I thought about how I wished a _fetus_ to death, and I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop with him either. First it was a hug, and then I wanted more. So then there was a kiss, a touch, a- Soon I was sleeping with my _stepbrother_. It took a drastic tragedy to bring us together. It was so wrong but it felt so _right._ Because when I was with him, there was no pain. There was no numb or cold. There was heat and passion and love that filled all of the empty spaces.

And God knows I was full of them.

* * *

Do you ever think, that when it all falls apart, _you'll _be the glue to the foundation? That you'll be the one left to pick up the pieces? I was the one who caused all the problems, who _created_ the pieces back when I was high school. Back then, they seemed like such dramatic issues. Omigod! Derek put red clothes in with the white ones! Holycrap! Derek crashed my dance competition! Ohno! Derek drank out of the milk carton! Those things seem so miniscule, so unimportant to what was happening now. Omigosh! My half sister was stillborn. My stepmother tried to commit suicide. My dad is livid. My brother is depressed. My little sister is confused. My stepsister is trying to take care of us all. And wow, did I mention my girlfriend is cutting herself? Did I ever foresee this twisted turn of events? Never. Who could have? You'd either have to be one damn good psychic, or Jesus. I try to help with all of family, I do. But I will admit that my main focus is Casey. Wouldn't you be concerned if your girlfriend was suicidal and depressed? I don't know how she thought she could hide those gashes on her arms, deep enough to penetrate a vein, deep enough to _kill_. It had to stop. She had to stop. I gave her what she wanted. I gave her what _I_ wanted. But nothing seemed to help. The most I could do was hold her in my arms and hope she got the message. I love the hell out of her. She is the most beautiful human being in the entire world. I love her. Nora loves her. Dad, Lizzie, Edwin, Marti _love_ her. Shouldn't that be enough? I whisper these things into her ear, and it gives us hope.

If only for a moment.

* * *

**AN: Okay. I admit I was pretty scared to put this up, but I'm hoping people will receive it well, despite the dark themes. I just really wanted to experiment with other topics and characters. I hope it's good enough. **_**Please **_**let me know what you think. **


End file.
